Fathering as Work

Stewardship Work

Overview

Fathering is not just a social role; it is the work fathers do every day. This work is different from a job or career in that it comes from a moral obligation to meet children's needs and actively build a caring and supportive father-child relationship. In order to do these important things, fathers should focus on seven specific categories of work: ethical work, stewardship work, development work, recreation work, spiritual work, relationship work, and mentoring work (Dollahite, Hawkins, & Brotherson, 1997). This part of our home page is related to stewardship work.

Stewardship work consists of the father's ability and responsibility to consecrate (to dedicate material resources to the child) and to create (to provide possibilities for the child to achieve). The desired result of stewardship work is responsible fathers and confident children who assume they will continue to have sufficient resources to meet their needs and opportunities to achieve their aspirations. If fathers do not adequately provide for the needs and wants of their children over the life span, the result is often poverty and discouragement for the child.

Stories

The first two stories illustrate how two different fathers created an environment in which their families could grow and enjoy life despite financial struggles.

"When I was in secondary school or junior high, we owed the local [Chinese] government a lot of money because we had many children in our home. We had expenses more than what was allocated to us. They came to take away the roof of one portion of our house in order to make that a payment. That was about a day before New Year's and it was a very sad experience for the whole family. My father, realizing that New Year's was coming, still did everything that he could to make sure the family got to enjoy the New Year as much as we used to. I was the oldest child in the family, and as a junior high school child, I was able to understand. I knew how much pressure was on his shoulders, as well as on his heart, yet he tried to make the best out of the worst. I think at that time that my heart reached out. I wished that I could share his work load and pressure. We had three portions of the house and they took away the roof from one of the three portions. . . . That was a bad experience. If you ask me what meaning it has for me, it just tells me how much my father loves his family.

Second Story.

"Because we had a large family, our family was never that comfortable, economically speaking. However my father, together with my mother, tried their best to make sure I went through every stage of school. Now I am trying to do the same for my children because of the love of my parents for me. I know it is important."

Biller (1993, p. 248) found that being committed to, and developing deep feelings of responsibility for one's children did much to energize the fathers's capacity for effective nurturance. Sacrifice is a necessary element in stewardship work and is a way to reflect one's commitment to the responsibility of caring for the next generation. The fathers in the following stories demonstrated their meaningful relationships with their children by sacrificing their own comfort and resources.

"In an earlier semester, I had to walk to the school every morning. . . It was usually about a forty-five minute walk. . . . In the wintertime [in China], very early in the morning, my father would always walk me to school and make sure that I was okay on the road . . . Usually we left before it was light in order to arrive on time. We had to carry a lot of our rice and other things to the school so that we had something to eat. My father would never let me carry those things; he would always carry them for me. It was very cold and there was usually a strong wind. We didn't have money to buy a new hat for me, so he would put his hat, which he had from years ago, on my head. It was too big for my head, but it kept my head warm. He would use a cold towel--the towel he'd washed his face with the previous night. There was no heat in the house, of course, unlike America, and so in the morning that towel was frozen solid. But he would wrap that towel around his ears because of the wind in the winter. I will never forget that. . . . When you are nurtured and cared for as a child, you are the one to transfer that love to the next generation."

Second Story.

"They give it back. As much as you give your parents, they find ways to give it back. Seven years ago I was in a partnership in construction and it went sour. The company got into a bad situation and, without going into a lot of detail, the bottom line was that I left. All I had known was construction for five or six years, since I'd been home from my mission [for his church]. I didn't know anything else, and construction was gone. There were no homes being built, no job opportunities, and I'd soured on it from what had happened. Basically, I ended up losing a home and becoming unemployed with no money. I'd learned from my family how to survive tough times: You face situations, nothing is ever critical, there's always a tomorrow, you're not going to die, etc. Yes, it might be important or a sticky situation, but you'll face it and tomorrow you'll go on. However, for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like there was a tomorrow. I had no money. I had bill collectors coming to the door. It really got to me when I realized that I didn't have enough money to buy a loaf of bread to feed my wife and my one child. When you are put into situations like that, you lose all self-confidence and all feelings of self-worth. I was devastated. My father could sense that something was wrong. My parents didn't know what the situation was or how bad it was, but they just showed up with some groceries. It was as if they were saying, "We don't know what you need, but we have some extra and here it is." It's probably one of the few times that I've cried in front of my father."

Third Story.

"When I was a young girl my family did not have much money. My father worked hard to get us what we needed, but with four small children and a small income, we did not have many extras. One Christmas when I was about eight or nine I really wanted a play stove. My parents told me that Santa tried hard to get every little girl all that she wanted but it didn't always work out. I remember thinking I really wanted that stove, but even if Santa could bring me some dishes or play food it would be all right. On Christmas morning there was a big white stove under the tree for me, and some dishes! I was so excited. It had turning dials and everything. I'd never seen a stove so neat--I was so lucky! In later years I came to know that my Dad had built the stove, using a piece of plywood and bottle caps for dials. He had painted four black burners on top and even made an oven with two shelves inside. He spent very little money and probably not much time, but to me it meant more that he'll know. My stove was the best and most original on the block, and the one made with the most love. "

More metaphors about fathering

Learning and Application Activities

Please complete one of the following:

1. Think of an experience in which you or your father (or some other father you know well) demonstrated stewardship work in fathering (consecrate, create). Write about this experience and submit your story to us.

2. Discuss the concept of stewardship work in fathering with a spouse, friend, or co-worker, including the challenges of the human condition that make stewardship work important (scarcity), the attendant needs of the next generation (resources and opportunities), fathers' capabilities and responsibilities (consecrate and create) and the intended results of stewardship work (responsible fathers and competent children). Send us a brief (about one page) "report" about what you learned from this discussion via email.

3. The terms, consecrate and create, associated with stewardship work, are quite broad, and in professional and educational settings it is usually important to be specific. Drawing from your personal and professional background, make a list of six specific ways that fathers can demonstrate their capability and responsibility to consecrate and create for their children and the next generation. Send your list to us via email.

Development Work

Overview

Fathering is not just a social role; it is the work fathers do every day. This work is different from a routine job or career in that it comes from a moral obligation to meet children's needs and actively build a caring and supportive father-child relationship. In order to do these important things, fathers should focus on seven specific categories of work: ethical work, stewardship work, development work, recreation work, spiritual work, relationship work, and mentoring work (Dollahite, Hawkins, Brotherson, 1997). The stories that follow exemplify the development work fathers do to care for their children and the next generation.

Development work consists of the father's ability and responsibility to care (to respond to their child's needs and wants) and to change (to adapt in response to their child's needs). The desired result of development work is responsive fathers and purposeful children who believe they will be able to continue to receive attention and initiate desired changes in their world.

Stories

As Erik Erikson suggested, in adulthood one learns how, and for whom one can care (Snarey, 1993). This caring involves sensitivity and responsiveness to the developmental needs of the children. The following stories illustrate the significance of the fathers' capacity to care for their families.

"I feel like I know Trina. I sense Trina, so that I know when she's having a problem and is trying to get through it on her own. I can sense when I need to delve into that and when I need to back off and let her handle it. . . . In August we were at church and she was coming down the hall and going to Sunday School. . . . I looked at her and knew that something was wrong. I said, "Trina, come here. What's wrong?" "Oh, nothing," she said. I repeated, "Trina, what's wrong?" And then the tears.

"It had to do with one of those kid things, her friends not wanting to talk to her, doing this and that. We walked around the chapel and talked about it. I said, "That doesn't mean it's your problem. You've got to remember that kids are mean to each other sometimes." I helped her put it in perspective. We walked around a little bit more until she could get herself together, then she went back to class and was fine.

Second Story.

"My mother's father, whom I'm very close to, died in September. I went home and I stopped by my Dad's for about ten minutes. He didn't want to hog the time, because I felt like I needed to be with my Grandma (my mother's mother). Later he came down to my Grandma's, which was his mother-in-law, and cared for her. It means a lot to me, because he is remarried, and he doesn't have to do that type of stuff, but he does. I think my father knows me better than I know myself. For one thing, my grandmother has been my idol.

"She was a woman who had taught herself to read. She buried each one of her five children and a husband, and is now alone with a bad heart. All she has is us grandkids. The fact that my father knows I worry, and that he would take time to invite her to his home for dinner and drop by to see and check on her when he's in the area makes me feel good that he cares enough about the other part of me. I have to put myself in a position to do the same thing for my kids.

"I should try to develop the same type of relationship to nurture my kids with their in-laws, and support my grandkids with their other set of grandparents, not just my family.

This next story shows a father's willingness to change his parenting style to nurture his child's development.

Megan was probably between one and two at the time. She had done something to disobey, and I was sending her to her room. She refused to go, and I decided that she was going to go whether she wanted to or not, so I reached out and whacked her bottom. She walked away about two steps, just out of my reach, and turned and faced me again and stuck her lip out. I said, "Go," and she wouldn't move, so I whacked her bottom again and she backed up two feet and looked at me. This happened three times, and I could see that I would never be able to spank her into her room. If she was going to go into that room, it was going to be because I picked her up and put her there. . . . After that experience I came to believe that I should never hit her. It did not do any good for one thing. Ignoring all the other possibilities, it wasn't going to get me anywhere I wanted to go.

Adjusting to the growing demands for independence that teenagers express can be a real challenge for fathers. In this next story, Alex tells of his experience when his 16-year-old daughter decided it was time to leave home.

Parenting adolescents has been a challenge for me, but that hardly makes me unique. A couple of years ago my daughter Kathy, our oldest child, began chafing against parental monitoring and guidance. Nothing too unusual here. She was 15. Over time we gave her more and more "slack, " eventually getting down to a couple of basic rules: let us know where you are and who you are with, let us know when we can expect you back, call if you're going to be late, and "be good."

"We thought these were very minimal and reasonable rules, but it wasn't enough for her; she needed to be on her own, completely unfettered by parental ties. We asked her if she thought other parents were more lenient than hers. She said all that she knew were stricter, but she still needed to have her freedom. She just had to be on her own.

"The summer after her sophomore year in high school, she moved out and into a home with an adult friend and her husband (they have no children). We didn't approve, but we could see that saying no would really sour our relationship with her. It was hard to say good-bye, even though she still lives close; we had thought we would have more time with her. It's been especially hard on her mother, who grew up in much more challenging circumstances and didn't get much parenting or have many of the advantages Kathy enjoyed. I've learned first-hand about the process of adolescent autonomy, parental separation, and an emptying nest.

"I've learned that the timing of this process isn't necessarily predictable and can be sooner than you think, leaving you unprepared. I think we made a good decision, and Kathy seems to be doing well, although it's harder to know all that's going on in her life now. I guess I've learned that children grow up on different timetables and with different needs and desires. Parents need to respect them. Although we wish we had more time with her, we now realize that parents shouldn't assume a fixed amount of time (18 years) to rear their children before launching. We hope letting her go will preserve a good relationship so that she will still come to us, physically and emotionally, in the future. That seems to be happening somewhat already.

Conclusion

FatherWork involves adapting creatively to change in children, fathers, and the circumstances in which they live. Developing children need their fathers' care and fathers need to give that care for their own healthy development. But the universal constant of change, predictable or un-, in children, in adults, in circumstances, quickly outdates yesterday's caring response and demands new, adaptive, and creative responses to meet the challenges of today and tomorrow.

Development work calls fathers to provide supportive conditions, resources, guidance, and love as children journey towards maturity. Generative fathers should be a treasured traveling companion for their children on this long and challenging trek, at times standing close together, working side-by-side, at other times observing and encouraging from a safe distance behind, but always a constant hand nearby to gently assist in holding the rudder when the course of life is uncertain, and an anchor of security in a sheltered bay when children need a rest from the strong winds and high waves of change.

More metaphors about fathering

Learning and Application Activities

Please complete one of the following:

1. Think of an experience in which you or your father (or some other father you know well) demonstrated development work in fathering (care, change). Write about this experience and submit your story to us.

2. Discuss the concept of development work in fathering with a spouse, friend, or co-worker, including the challenges of the human condition that make development work important (change), the attendant needs of the next generation (attention and accommodation), fathers' capabilities and responsibilities (care and change) and the intended results of development work (responsive fathers and purposeful children). Send us a brief (about one page) "report" about what you learned from this discussion via email.

3. The terms, care and change, associated with development work, are quite broad, and in professional and educational settings it is usually important to be specific. Drawing from your personal and professional background, make a list of six specific ways that fathers can demonstrate their capability and responsibility to continue and change for their children and the next generation. Send your list to us via email.

Recreation Work

Overview

Fathering is not just a social role; it is the work fathers do every day. This work is different from a job or career in that it stems from a moral obligation to meet children's needs and actively build a caring and supportive father-child relationship. To perform these critical duties, fathers can focus on seven specific categories of work: ethical work, stewardship work, development work, recreation work, spiritual work, relationship work, and mentoring work (Dollahite, Hawkins, & Brotherson, 1997). This part of our home page is related to recreation work.

Recreation work consists of the father's ability and responsibility to cooperate (to relax and play together on the child's level) and to challenge (to extend the child's skills and coping abilities). The desired result of recreation work is playful fathers and joyful children who enjoy life and know how to relieve stress through recreation, and who have been challenged to develop competencies that will help them face the demands of life.

Stories

Recreation work allows children to relax and play with their father, which gives fathers the ability to be themselves, or to "loosen the collar," as we see in the next couple of stories.

"Recently, I was with my family at the Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport, changing planes as we were moving from Austin, Texas to New York. I was holding my six-year-old daughter's hand as we walked down the terminal, when she suddenly looked up at me with a big smile and said, with complete anticipation, 'Dad, let's skip.' "A number of things flashed through my mind at that moment. Among them was the fact that in dozens of trips through D/FW I couldn't recall having ever seen a 38-year-old businessman skipping merrily through the terminal.

"Granted, that wasn't a scientific survey, and I may have just missed the peak businessman skipping times, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I would be breaking new ground. As far as earth-shattering, high-impact, moral dilemmas go, this was a relatively modest one, but I was struck by the level of discomfort this simple, little request instilled in me. I knew the generally accepted informal rules of airport behavior didn't include grown men skipping, and I wasn't anxious to be a trend-setter.

"Nevertheless, the thought dawned on me that there was a higher value at work here than my need not to look conspicuous and silly in public. Perhaps my need to make a little girl happy, who was somewhat melancholy about moving, should have been enough to make me change my conventional airport behavior. (And it was.) Oh, by the way, if anyone ever tells you about the crazy guy they saw skipping down the terminal at D/FW, just remember it made a six-year-old girl happy."

Second Story.

"Today I was building paper airplanes for my son Jake and some little cousins, and my older kids got to talking about the paper planes we used to make and fly. Mom happened to be gone to a women's church meeting, so we decided to have some fun. "We had been watching a Star Wars movie and that inspired us to make paper bag helmets with cellophane windows as eye shields. Then we put duct tape on our thumbs and shot rubber bands at each other for hours.

"We had a ball! We shot about a thousand rubber bands all over the house. Mom was mad at us--but we had a LOT of fun. Anyway, we decided we'd do it again this week when Mom is away. We now have a ton of rubber bands stockpiled because of all the paper routes we do. It should be fun. I need to find the clear cellophane and we'll be in business. I think this 'mother of all battles' will be one of those memories that my kids will always remember."

Third Story.

"My father loves the mountains and looked to them often for a place of peace, calmness, and solitude. When ever he was upset, angry, or had a large decision to make, I would see him go to the mountains above Holden to relax and gather his emotions. When I was about sixteen years old, my father started taking me on horseback up into those beautiful mountains. He taught me the how of the mountains and also expressed many of his feelings about his life to me. I learned a lot about my father that day that I will never forget. There was something about the mountains that helped my father and me open up to each other and understand how each other felt.

Recreation work can sometimes get out-of-hand if fathers get too competitive. If fathers can also use these opportunities to teach, it gives the father the chance to teach his children important lessons, as we will see from the following story.

My son Jeffrey is just getting to the age where he is proficient athletically. A few weeks back we were playing racquetball, and I was being generous to keep the game close. After one particularly obvious feigned miss he turned to me and said, "Dad, why do you keep giving me points? Why don't you just play your best?" Apparently he didn't like my patronizing play. Then a thought came to me: Jeffrey is a Southpaw. I said, "Okay, but we both have to use our left hands." He smiled and I switched hands with the racquet. We both played our hearts out. He won two games to one and we were both enthusiastic about playing again. The competition was exhilarating, but it didn't really matter who won. I think that sometimes Dads and sons get too competitive in games and sports. Losing can be devastating to spirit and relationship. I am trying to teach my children to enjoy the game for its own sake, and not for its outcome. When asked, "Did you win?" I am teaching them to always say, "Yes, I won. If you have fun, you win. I had fun, so I won."

Recreation work entails not only doing an activity with a child, but also watching an activity. From these opportunities, fathers can grow closer to their children in ways not thought possible. The following story shows how a daughter and father bonded in watching her brothers play together.

"When we got up the canyon, it was a beautiful day; I knew that my dad wished that he could play the game with my brothers, but this time he could only watch. When he stopped the van, the next few minutes in time were very meaningful for me. My dad's crutches were in the back of the van, and he asked me to get them for him. I jumped out of the van and opened the side door, trying to hurry to show my dad that I could help him. I grabbed his crutches and walked around to the driver side. The look on my dad's face told me that he was in pain. I handed him the crutches and he thanked me. He used his arms to slide his body to the edge of the seat; again his face revealed his discomfort. I knew that this process wasn't easy for him. He took one crutch in each hand and supported himself as he slid down from the seat. Then together we walked over to the place where the game would start. My dad used to always hold my hand; actually he would hold my pinkie with his. Now he couldn't hold my hand at all because he had to hold onto his crutches. I felt safe with my dad, and I was proud to be his daughter.

"I felt a special bond with my dad that day. First, I was in a place he loved so much, and I was glad that he brought me along. Second, I felt like he needed me to be there so I could help him. Third, for the first time, I think I realized that my dad was imperfect and that even adults didn't always feel strong and secure. My own dad had need for a little eleven year old girl. It's funny that I remember this small and seemingly insignificant experience with my father, but I had a lot of strong emotions for my dad that day. I felt like he was so strong to be able to make it through all the things he had been through, and to have people look at him because he only had one leg. I felt so proud that he was my dad.

The importance of recreation work can be found when fathers aren't there for their children. These situations can play as a wake up call for the fathers to be more involved as we will see in the following story.

"Last month I felt in my gut what happens when you don't put family first. My son Steven recently had his first-ever swim meet. He loves to compete and show off for Dad. I know he was counting on me to be there. As the hour approached, I had a little last-minute research request at work, and I opted to complete the request before I left. As a result, I ended up leaving just a few minutes later than I had planned. The wind storm made the commute home just a little longer than usual, and I arrived just in time to see Steven getting out of the water after his very first race.

"I missed it! It is an experience that can never be recreated! When he's an Olympic swimmer I'll never be able to say I saw his first competitive race. And I missed it so I could finish an unimportant task at work. The really ironic thing is that the next day we ended up not even needing the research I had done. I learned very clearly that my place at that moment in time was at the pool with my son, not at the office with my computer! I vow not to miss other important firsts in my son's life.

Sometimes recreation work helps bring out some of the most simple joys in life for the father. The following story illustrates how simple recreation work can bring sweet joy.

"Even though Amanda is our eighth baby, the wondrous magic of her first smiles continues to amaze me. For six weeks I have burped her, talked to her, changed her, loved her, and cared for her. About all she had returned to me was a little spit up, some hungry cries that I couldn't do anything about, and a few contented stares. But now, with a jiggle and a joggle and a wiggle and waggle, there erupts from her mouth a bouncy jouncy smile! This grin sets off a feeling of pure joy within me. It completely melts any anger or rancor; I could have had the worst day at work and dealt with all kinds of meanness, but holding Amanda and seeing her beaming from ear to ear makes life wonderful. There is nothing so precious as a smiling infant.

"Because she can smile, I now know a lot more about what she likes. She likes for me to roll her over and over. She likes me to click my mouth and make crazy loud-pitched noises. She likes me to swing her arms back and forth in time with the music. She likes me to give her the vitamins that doctor gave us. As for me, I'm not particular. So long as she will smile at me, that's all I ask.

Recreation work does not have to be something that is planned out. This next father tells a story about a time when spontaneous play brought a memorable experience with his children.

"One day I was sitting in the living room with my two-year-old, Spencer, reading a book to him. I was about to get up and leave for a meeting when my daughters, Camilla (7) and Kathryn (5), along with two of their little friends, came running in and asked if they could go and find some boys to come play with them. When I asked what they wanted to play, Cami said, 'Oh, we want to have a dance downstairs.' It was not absolutely essential that I attend the meeting I was planning to go to, and I couldn't pass up a chance to have a dance with my little daughters. So I said, 'Well, could Spencer and I be the boys?' They all squealed with delight at that suggestion and grabbed us by the hands to bring us down.

"When we got downstairs, the playroom was all cleaned up (an unusual site) and there was a table with plastic refreshments and several plastic musical instruments. The girls told us that they would take turns playing the music and dancing, but that we had to dance every dance since there were only two boys and four girls. So the two neighbor girls played and Spencer and I danced with Cami and Katy. Then we switched and danced with the neighbor kids while Cami and Katy played. After we had danced for a while, we sat on the floor in a circle and enjoyed the 'refreshments.' Then I suggested we play a short game our kids like to play where one person begins a make up story and, after telling a little bit, points to someone else, who picks makes up the next part and then points to someone else, and so on. We did a couple of stories until all the refreshments were gone. Then we danced some more, this time with Spencer being much more enthusiastically involved. It was one of those time that are hard to plan, but essential to have as often as possible. I don't know if my daughters will remember that day, but I know I'll never forget it.

Recreation work can be an occasion to help children grow in confidence and esteem, as illustrated in this next, lengthy story.

A small castle wall rose up from the steep banks of the Rhine River. The castle continued upward from where I stood, but all my focus and energy remained on the thirty foot precipice between me and the ground. My dad had planned a rappelling trip for his Boy Scout troop and, even though I was barely old enough to be a Cub Scout, my dad was always willing to let me squeeze into the van and join them on their trips.

Several men from the nearby air base had come to teach the basics of rappelling. I had been allowed to stand in the back to listen and watch. A rope was affixed to a tree set back several paces from the ledge's edge. One by one the Boy Scouts adorned harnesses and helmets and--some more bravely than others--disappeared over the lip of the cliff and descended to the riverbank below. I stood by anxiously. I knew that once all the others had gone I would have an opportunity to put on the macho harness and helmet and manfully follow in the foot steps of those triumphant Boy Scouts. The moment did come.

I geared up. The air men reinstructed me on how to maneuver the ropes, and then I took my stance overlooking the sheer wall in front of me. The wind blew my hair upward as it ascended from the river. My hands gripped the ropes and and began to turn my back to the cliff. In the instant that my weight should have shifted off my feet and onto the rope, nothing happened. I froze. I looked down at the hiking boots my mom had let me borrow and my mind raced. What if the rope breaks? What if I slip? What if can't stop myself? A frantic and panicky array of morbid thoughts raced through my little helmet covered head. My hands began to sweat inside my gloves. I didn't move.

My dad saw one of the staff sergeants moving toward me and, with his hand, indicated for him to wait. My dad came over to me and asked me to step down from the ledge. We took a few steps away from the edge and began a conversation in hushed tones. "I'm proud of you, son. This is a scary and difficult thing. I want you to know that you don't have to do this. I know that you will be safe and that nothing will happen to you if you decide to do it. But it's up to you. What ever you decide will be fine with me." Everyone stood as silent as the castle walls. I played it out in my mind. Everyone had done it safely. My dad wouldn't lie to me. But what if I fell? What if I peed my pants? How would I feel if I didn't do it? For some arbitrary reason I stood close to my dad and whispered, "I'll do it."

I resumed my position on the ledge. I turned my back to the empty air. Clinging to the lifeline in front of me I lowered my self into the nothingness behind and below me. As a fumbled down the face of the cliff my confidence grew. I planted my feet, leaned back and began a gentle walk, perpendicular to the cliff. Suddenly a strange sensation shifted everything. My knees buckled, the rope suddenly went slack and I fell backward. I had reached the bottom. My father looked down smiling and proud, but I knew he would have loved me regardless.

As I reflect on this event I can see how this experience helped me grow into manhood. My father did many things that can be categorized as healthy family behaviors; all of which helped me reach the potential of the given moment. First, I knew my father's love was unconditional . No matter whether I decided to rappel or not, I knew my dad would love me. Second, he telescoped his trust in me. If I had not perceived his confidence in me, I might not have perceived the ability within myself to successfully rappel the castle cliff. Third, my dad communicated in a cooperative way . He was not interested in proving to all the other Air Force officers present that his son was just as tough as any other kid, nor was he trying to force me to be what he wanted to be. Rather, he offered encouragement and comfort, all of which helped me to rise to the occasion.

More metaphors about fathering

Learning and Application Activities

Please complete one of the following:

1. Think of an experience in which you or your father (or some other father you know well) demonstrated recreation work in fathering (cooperate, challenge). Write about this experience and submit your story to us.

2. Discuss the concept of recreation work in fathering with a spouse, friend, or co-worker, including the challenges of the human condition that make recreation work important (stress), the attendant needs of the next generation (relaxation and capabilities), fathers' capabilities and responsibilities (cooperate and challenge) and the intended results of ethical work (playful fathers and joyful children). Send us a brief (about one page) "report" about what you learned from this experience via email.

3. The terms, cooperate and challenge, associated with recreation work, are quite broad, and in professional and educational settings it is usually important to be specific. Drawing from your personal and professional background, make a list of six specific ways that fathers can demonstrate their capability and responsibility to cooperate with and challenge their children and the next generation. Send your list to us via email.

Spiritual Work

Overview

Fathering is not just a social role; it is the work fathers do every day. This work is different from a routine job or career in that it comes from a moral obligation to meet children's needs and actively build a caring and supportive father-child relationship. In order to do these important things, fathers should focus on seven specific categories of work: ethical work, stewardship work, development work, recreation work, spiritual work, relationship work, and mentoring work (Dollahite, Hawkins, & Brotherson, 1997). The stories that follow exemplify the spiritual work fathers do to care for their children and the next generation.

Spiritual work consists of the father's ability and responsibility to confirm (to affirm his belief and confidence in the child) and to counsel (to guide, teach, advise, and inspire the child). The use of the term spiritual work here does not necessarily imply religious belief or practice, but does suggest a strong, deep nurturing and guiding connection between father and child in ways that the child can obtain some meaning and direction and come experience some degree of peace about their life and future. Nonetheless, religious beliefs and practices often can be helpful in facilitating generative spiritual work.

Stories

The following story is about a father's feelings at the birth of his first child. At this time in his life, he turns to God for guidance.

"There are in my memory some small, bright, open places that never close or fade. I remember as if it were yesterday the moment when the doctor put our just-delivered, still-wet, first child on my trembling arm. I remember the outside things: the antiseptic hospital smell, the unique combination of joy and fatigue on my wife's face, the exquisite perfection of each tiny new finger and toe. Even more, I remember the inside feelings: the sighing relief, the welling joy, the almost irresistible urge to throw open the hospital window right then (at 3 A.M.) and announce the new arrival to the world. Slid in, just under the joy, was another feeling: the weight of responsibility, the sudden remarkable reality that this soul, this spirit, this tiny real person was ours now, ours to raise, her destiny so totally trusted in our inexperienced, untried, untrained parenthood.

"Within the next hour there were calls to new grandparents and the fun of hearing their voices jump from grogginess to excitement. Then finally, with new baby and new mother fast asleep, there was nothing more for me to do but drive home. By then it was early-summer dawn, with deserted streets and delicate, pale gold sky. Spontaneously, as I drove, I started to pray out loud.

"Somehow the joy, the marvel, the miracle of birth had lifted my spirit higher, closer, so that it seemed natural right at that moment to just talk to God. "Thank you" was the essence of the prayer; thank you for something so great I could not comprehend, for something I could not imagine I was worthy to receive. After the thank you, all that was left was the desire (not the obligation) to repay, to commit, to promise--to somehow make my thanks more than just words by pledging that I would honor the stewardship, that I would strive to be a great father.

"Suddenly, the fullness of the word struck: "Father." The Father of us all had just allowed me to take that role, that title (His role, His title) for one of His children. I remember the exact words that came next in my prayer: "Oh, Father, help me to be a father."

This is a story of a boy who confesses serious mistakes to his father. He is concerned that his relationship with his father will never be the same again.

"When I was 18 years old, I had what could be termed as a pivotal experience with my father. I say pivotal, because it was an experience that effected not only our relationship at that time, but it also had a profound influence on our future interactions as well. This experience took place while I was completing the final preparations to turn in my missionary papers. It was a bitter-sweet time for me emotionally. I was excited for the opportunity I might have to serve the Lord, yet at the same time, there were some shadows of the past that would not let me feel at ease. I had not lived what one could call the ideal pre-mission life. However, during my senior year of high school, I had some very personal experiences that created a profound spiritual awakening in my life. Those experiences made me realize how far my life had strayed from the teachings of the Savior and His prophets. During that time of soul searching and change, I began to hunger for forgiveness and peace. I was willing to do whatever was necessary to put my spiritual life back in order.

"During my senior year of high school, I enlisted the help of my bishop and made great strides in living a more Christlike life. To a large degree, I found much of the peace I was looking for. However, as I began the process of putting together my missionary papers, I began to feel an uneasiness in my life again. Despite the reassurances of my bishop that I was ready for my mission, I could not shake the feeling that my previous mistakes were unforgivable. The adversary was doing a pretty good job of making me feel that my Father in Heaven would never be able to love me after all that I had done.

"To compound my anxiety, I also knew that I still had to meet with my Stake President for a final Priesthood interview for my mission. The prospect of reviewing my worthiness with my stake president made my stomach turn. Even though I knew that the Atonement was real, I was having a difficult time allowing it to apply to my past mistakes. I knew that talking with my stake president was a necessary step in my mission preparation, but I just felt that he would be so disappointed in my life up to that point. My anxiousness for this particular interview was so high because I had known my stake president for years and I respected him more that anyone else. You see, my stake president was my dad.

"The night of my interview with my father, I remember wondering if our relationship would ever be the same. My parents had raised my brothers and me with very high standards and expectations. Our home had always revolved around the Gospel. My father had been my priesthood leader in one way or another since I was two years old. First he was my bishop, and then later he was called into the stake presidency. I just did not know what my father would think as I told him about my past mistakes. We had always had a very loving and open relationship, and I was afraid that I was going to destroy that trust as I told him about the things I had kept hidden from him and my mother for so long.

"In many ways, I felt as though I had used his trust in me to hide my "double life."

"As I put my tie on to go over to the church, I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I was convinced that my father would be so hurt and disappointed that our relationship would never be the same. As I left for my father's office at the church, I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. When I arrived at the church offices, I felt so alone. I took a seat on the couch in the waiting foyer and gazed at a picture of the Savior on the opposite wall. His love seemed so far away. My father came to the door and invited me into his office. I was always grateful that my father had my brothers and me come over to the church building for interviews. He often told us that he wanted us to feel that we still had a stake president, even though he was our father.

"As I entered the room, I could not look my father in the eye. He told me that he knew that this was difficult for me and that he wished there was another way to handle the situation. He assured me that our conversation that night would be between him and me only, and that my mother would not know anything I did not want her to know. As I began to speak, my eyes filled with tears. I felt as though I was letting the person I respected most see my worst side. I felt particularly stung when I told my father how I had lied about some things during high school in order to hide my double life from him and my mother. It was truly one of the lowest moments of my life. However, the events that transpired next have forever effected the relationship I have with my father.

"As I looked up for the first time that evening to see my father's reaction, I saw something I will never forget. His eyes were filled with tears, and his cheeks were wet with a compassion that reached out to me. His eyes touched me with pure fatherly love. As we discussed life up to that point, I caught a glimpse of the type of love God must have for His children. He loves us without conditions. He is on our side and desperately wants us to succeed. He yearns to take all of our pain and suffering from us, yet he knows that we must experience the bitterness of this life so that we might grow and learn.

"I learned that night that our Father in Heaven is often times more willing to forgive the truly penitent sinner than the sinner is willing to forgive himself. I learned these things that night because that is the type of love my father had for me. Seeing the empathy he had for me convinced me that forgiveness and pure love do exist. That night I experienced pure fatherly love, the same type of love our Father in Heaven has for us. As I left my father's office that night, I felt the peace I had been searching for. During our interview, my father shared a scripture that signified to me our relationship at that time. "And now, my son, I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more, and only let your sins trouble you, with that trouble which shall bring you down to repentance." (Alma 42:29) I learned from my father that it was only the adversary who wanted me to believe that I was beyond the love of the Savior. I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to talk with my father that evening. It was a profound private moment between the two of us that helped me come to know the depth of a father's love."

In this story, a little girl is lost in the forest and prays to find her way home. It is her father who helps her, having prayed that God would help him find his daughter.

"When I was three or four years old we lived in North Carolina in a house that backed up right against the woods. It was beautiful. One day my friend Mark Sullivan, my sisters, and I were playing next door on our neighbors' trampoline. Suddenly the neighborhood dog, a puppy, scurried off into the woods. Mark and I were afraid he would get lost, so we followed him. Apparently, the dog soon found his way back home, but Mark and I were completely lost. The Carolina pines were very thick, and we could not see our way through the trees. For hours we wandered looking for an opening. It seemed possible that we would never see home again.

"I remember telling Mark that we had to pray if we wanted to get home safely. He agreed to let me do it. Within one minute of that sincere prayer we heard a faint sound off in the distance that gradually got louder until I clearly heard, 'Kerrrrriiii! Kerrriiiii Rogggeerrrrssss! Where are youuuuuuu?' Never has my dad's voice sounded so sweet to me before or since. We ran whooping and hollering until we found him sitting on a tree stump at the edge of the forest. I ran to his arms and just cried with relief.

"He was crying, too. After that emotional reunion was over, we took Mark home and then quickly returned to my mother, who was having a nervous breakdown back at the house. I was terrified that I was going to be severely punished for causing my parents so much worry. I don't remember Mom's reaction--only that soon afterward I was told to "go down to the den" which was my dad's office at home and where we were often sent to be disciplined. It was always traumatic experience to go to there.

"My dad was waiting for me with a stern look on his face and a serious tone in his voice. I thought I was in for the spanking of my life. He quietly asked me for my side of the story and listened very intently. As I finished he said, 'Well, Kerri, I'm going to have to punish you for running off without telling us and causing so much worry. You know that, don't you?' I nodded because I was too scared to do anything else. He had me bend over his knee for the 1-2-3 and I waited for the pain. Instead I heard him say '1-2-3,' felt three soft pats on my bottom, and then got a great big hug and kiss from my father. I was stunned! He made me swear never to run off like that again. I agreed, and I never did.

"The next day at church Dad bore his testimony in public for one of the few times in his life. It is the only time I can remember him doing it with me at his side. He helped me tell my story and then shared his own experience. He had been searching for hours and was about to give up. Stopping on a stump to rest, he prayed that God would help him find his daughter. When he finished he felt it 'wouldn't hurt' to try one last time. That was the only time I heard my father's call."

In this story, a little girl's father blessed her with faith to overcome her illness. He was her greatest support during her suffering.

"This is not much of a story in that it doesn't flow as nicely as most stories do, but it is a true experience with my father. In preparing to write this I have done a lot of reflecting on my relationship with my father. Many experiences have come into my mind, but none of them quite typifies our relationship like my twenty-fourth surgery, which I had when I was sixteen years old. It was summer so my dad, a French professor, did not have to worry about getting a substitute for his classes, or about work piling up as much as he would have in fall or winter.

"My parents spent from about nine in the morning to about eight at night with me every day at Primary Children's Medical Center in Salt Lake, then they left to drive back home to Provo so my father would not get too tired. The night before my surgery my father and my uncle gave me a healing blessing that gave me courage and comfort. It helped me know that I would be all right, that I was loved, and that I would be well cared for.

"As soon as I was in my own room after the surgery, while I was still quite anesthetized, my father pulled out his camera and took a picture of me. When I groaned about it he said, "Well, at least I didn't make any 'cutting' remarks." I groaned again, my usual response to his really corny puns, and went to sleep. This joking is a very important part of our relationship and one of the ways we show caring for each other.

"Later, after the anesthesia had worn off, I was in a great deal of pain. They had discovered a few weeks earlier (after another surgery) that I am allergic to both codeine and morphine, which most strong pain medications are based on. Because of this they had me on a high dosage of Extra-Strength Tylenol. It may have been "extra-strength," but it just was not "extra-strength" enough for my pain. I spent most of the next few days trying to breath deeply while quivering and sobbing in pain. My father spent much of that time sitting next to me, holding my hand so I would have something to squeeze, and wiping my tears. It meant a great deal to me and was one of the ways that I can remember that my father showed me he loved me."

In this story, a little girl learns to love God's creations through her father's example.

"My father was an avid fisherman, duck hunter, and deer hunter; a regular outdoors man. He had a membership at East Canyon Resort and was thrilled about spending time in the outdoors whenever he had the chance. Every birthday, Father's day, or Christmas I remember buying my dad shot gun shells. He owned lots of guns, which he hung to display; a mounted deer, which hung right outside my parent's bedroom; and wooden ducks. He was a 'typical' masculine male.

"When I was eleven or twelve years old, my dad took me up to East Canyon for the day. This particular trip stands out vividly in my mind and I cherish it because I was able to be in the outdoors with my dad, and it was one of the last outings I had with him. He had been diagnosed with cancer the year before and that year the cancer spread throughout his left leg and the doctors had to amputate it. Our family had been through a lot that year and felt a lot of new and confusing emotions.

"This particular Saturday afternoon, my brothers came up to East Canyon to play some sort of paint gun game, but my dad and I drove up together in our old tan Dodge van. My dad had on his usual gray sweats and a short sleeved shirt. He was a lot thinner than he'd ever been. He now wore light brown baseball gloves on his hands so hey wouldn't get calluses from his crutches. He no longer looked like the dad I had always known. It was a beautiful day in the canyon, and I knew that my dad wished that he could play the game with my brothers, but this time he could only watch.

"When he stopped the van, the next few minutes in time were very meaningful for me. My dad's crutches were in the back of the van, and he asked me to get them for him. I jumped out and opened the side door, trying to hurry to show my dad that I could help him. I grabbed his crutches from the back and walked around to the driver side. The look on his face told me that he was in pain. I handed him the crutches, and he thanked me. He used his arms to slide his body to the edge of the seat, and again his face revealed his discomfort. I knew that this process wasn't easy for him. He took one crutch in each hand and supported himself as he slid down. Then together we walked over to the place where the game would start. My dad used to always hold my hand; actually he would hold my pinkie with his. Now he couldn't hold my hand at all because he had to hold onto his crutches. I felt safe with my dad and I was proud to be his daughter.

"I felt a special bond with my dad that day. First, I was in a place that he loved so much and I was glad that he brought me along. Second, I felt like he needed me to be there so that I could help him. Third, for the first time I realized that my dad was imperfect and that even adults didn't always feel strong and secure. My own dad had need for a little eleven year old girl. It's funny that I remember this small and seemingly insignificant experience with my father, but I had a lot of strong emotions for him that day. I felt like he was so strong to be able to make it through all the things he had been through, and to have people look at him because he only had one leg. I felt so proud that he was my dad."

In this story, a young girl explains that even though her father isn't a "religious" man, he taught her about loving people sincerely.

"He taught me something I will never forget. I was thirteen at the time, and basically thought I was "all that." My dad was my pal and cool to hang with. I always new he was a good guy with a good heart, but it wasn't until my phone conversation with Melissa Martin that I learned how much he cared about people. I had just hung up the phone after telling Melissa I couldn't help her with her algebra that afternoon. Dad wanted to know why I had said no to her. I told him I didn't want to waste my afternoon helping her with algebra when I could spend the time with my other girlfriends at the mall. I also told him that it was no big deal anyway because we didn't have a test for another two weeks.

"My dad looked disappointed. I can't bear for him to be disappointed in me for any reason, so I asked what the problem was. He hesitated and then taught me something I will never forget. He sat me down and explained to me the importance of being nice to people. I thought it was an unnecessary conversation at first, because I was going to help Melissa with math, just not today. But the more I listened and thought of my dad's words, the more I began to see why he is someone I admire so much. He explained to me that it's easy to be nice to people when it's convenient, but it's when it isn't convenient that one's true colors show.

"My dad has a way of teaching me things that penetrate my heart and motivate me to follow his council. Even though we aren't affiliated with any particular religion, I think I have learned more from my dad than any other person about the importance of being nice to others. He is the nicest man I know--not just to me, but to everyone."

More metaphors about fathering

Learning and Application Activities

Please complete one of the following:

1. Think of an experience in which you or your father (or some other father you know well) demonstrated spiritual work in fathering (confirm, counsel). Write about this experience and submit your story to us.

2. Discuss the concept of spiritual work in fathering with a spouse, friend, or co-worker, including the challenges of the human condition that make spiritual work important (perplexity), the attendant needs of the next generation (encouragement and meaning), fathers' capabilities and responsibilities (confirm and counsel) and the intended results of spiritual work (faithful fathers and peaceful children). Send us a brief (about one page) "report" about what you learned from this experience via email.

3. The terms, confirm and counsel, associated with spiritual work, are quite broad, and in professional and educational settings it is usually important to be specific. Drawing from your personal and professional background, make a list of six specific ways that fathers can demonstrate their capability and responsibility to confirm and counsel their children and the next generation. Send your list to us via email.

Relationship Work

Overview

Fathering is not just a social role; it is the work fathers do every day. This work is different from a job or career, in that it stems from a moral obligation to meet children's needs and actively build a caring and supportive father-child relationship. To perform these critical duties, fathers can focus on seven specific categories of work: ethical work, stewardship work, development towrk, recreation work, spiritual work, relationship work, and mentoring work (Dollahite, Hawkins, & Brotherson, 1997). This part of our home page is related to relationship work.

Relationship work consists of the father's ability and responsibility to commune (to share love, thoughts, and feelings with their child) and to comfort (to express empathy and understanding with the child). The desired result of relational work is loving fathers and caring children. Relationship work involves not only maintaining loving relationship with the child but also facilitating the child's relationships with other family and community members, especially the child's mother, siblings, and grandparents.

Stories

The teaching of a skill becomes generative when it is instilled with a sense of extending oneself into the apprentice role or attaching oneself to a lasting art. Fathers can find the opportunity to connect with their children by participating in activities together. This kind of relationship is depicted in these next two stories.

"Probably one of the most enjoyable experiences I had with Tim was when I built my mother-in-law's home, which is just across the street. He was only two or two-and-a-half at the time, and he had to be there with me the whole time. It wasn't enough for him to be there; he had to be doing the same thing that I was doing. I tried to appease him by getting him his own tools, but I didn't want him to get hurt, so I got him the plastic tools . . . No, it didn't work, so I had to go and get him smaller, but real tools. If I was pounding a nail, he had to pound a nail. Tim had some painful lessons!

"He had to learn that when you bring the hammer up you don't bring it up and hit your head before you take it back down. But at two and a half Tim could pound a sixteen-penny nail. I had to start it for him, but he'd sit there and do his little taps. It might have taken him half an hour, but he'd stay right there until he got that nail down.

"To this day Tim likes to work. As long as he can work with Dad, that's fine. . . . I still take him to work with me once in a while, although when there's snow and I'm working on a roof I can't do it. It really hurts because when I see Tim in the morning he'll say, "Going to work today, Dad?" I'll say, "Yeah, I am." "Do you need any help?" It's not "Can I come with you?" but "Do you need any help?" Can you tell a son who is asking if he can come and help you work in doing physical labor that you don't need any help? That's really hard. If I continually tell him, "No, I don't need any help," I don't want him to relate that with the idea, "Okay, I don't need to work."

"I don't want him to develop that type of attitude."

Second Story.

"When Steven was three months old, I laid him in the bottom of the tub and put in a washcloth so he wouldn't slide around. I slowly filled the tub with water until it was at his ear level, where I knew if he turned one way or the other he could at least be safe. As a baby, he didn't have very good motor movement, but once he got into the water his motor coordination improved. I don't know how to explain it, but he started kicking and moving his arms; he brightened up, and there was something almost transcendental about the moment of looking into his eyes while he was in the water, making a moment of progression in his body.

"Somehow he was on his own. It's very difficult to explain it, but I could see the water, his eyes and the sky in all that one moment. It was just an important moment for me. . . perhaps because you have moments when you look at people and there is a connection there which is inexplicable. I can't explain it. I looked into his eyes and saw something. It was a tie between father and child.

Meaningful communication plays a vital role in developing relationships and teaching children about the world. This story shows how a father's attempt to understand his son taught a valuable lesson about life.

"I remember coming home after being out with some friends; I'd had a little bit to drink. . . . Mother always waited up for me and Dad slept. If Mom ever mentioned anything bad, he'd wake right up. If Mom said, "Have you been doing this--?" then I'd hear, "What?" coming from Dad's side of the bed. Although I can't remember the details of that night very well, I do remember that I felt more tension than I ever had felt between Dad and me. Dad left for work at about 6:00 the next morning, as usual. As I was about to leave for school, Mom said, "Make sure you come home right after school because your Dad wants to talk to you." The worst thing about it was that at first, when they'd asked me the night before if I'd been drinking, I had said, "no." Then I'd started thinking about ways that I was going to get out of telling the truth, but I'd realized I couldn't, so I'd just decided to tell them what really happened. I remember the disappointment.

"When I got home from school that afternoon, he hadn't come home yet. It was the longest half-hour I've ever waited in my life. He came home, went in and gave Mom a kiss and talked to Mom, then said, "Mark, come in the room." He didn't ask me why I had been drinking; instead he simply said, "Why did you lie to me?" Those were his first words. "Why did you lie to me?" I wasn't ready for that question. That's all he wanted to know, and I felt like the biggest heel right then. It wasn't so much the drinking; it was that I had lied to him. That's probably the farthest away that I've ever felt from him, doing that--lying to him. I hope he taught me a lesson there--to always tell the truth, no matter what the circumstance may be. Hopefully, when my kids come to me and tell me the truth, I won't act in a way so that they won't want to tell their dad the truth."

This next account illustrates the important role communication plays in strengthening family bonds and love.

"I was doing research, probably when I was a freshman in college or senior in high school, writing a paper on regional medical programs. I chose an off-the-wall political topic. Fortunately, my father was involved in regional medical program planning for the federal government at the time. We rode up to Salt Lake City and I watched him transact business in some board-of-directors meeting. We talked about it on the way home and it was just kind-of nice. We talked about other things too, and we were just close. It's just that I had him all to myself and we were riding home together, and we were generally talking about the future and things that we were doing, lessons that we had learned, things that he had done as a kid, etc."

Snarey (1993, p. 278) found that men who did not have fathers as active as they would have wanted them to be often become highly active in their own children's lives. Kotre (1984, p. 169) also found that many kinds of emotional satisfaction are obtained from creating legacies of desired elements missing from one's own past. The following story shows how one father realized that he wanted to create a strong bond between him and his son through spending time together.

"I was always playing catch with my older brothers, but I kind-of wish [Dad] would have come and done that a little more....Probably just so that I could have said it was my Dad. I see now with Luke that is what I'm trying to do. Whether it's playing with the little football we got or something else. I always go out and do that with him instead of sending him with another kid."

Love and humor are combined to reinforce a good relationship between a teenage daughter and her father in this last story. Snarey's review of literature shows the fathers' impact on their daughters' social-emotional development to be significant (1993, p. 161).

"One day my Dad was working on the car I usually drove. He came inside wearing his work overalls, and I asked him how it was going. He said it was going fine, but he had to go to the store and get something to finish up. I said, "You're not going to the store looking like that...how embarrassing! You look like a geek. Don't tell anyone you're my Dad." I was kind of joking but I did think it would be embarrassing if he ran into someone I knew. A few minutes later he came out of his room with home-made signs taped to his front and back that said "I'm a geek" and "I'm Kimberlie's Dad." He got in the car and was leaving and I was laughing. I was a little embarrassed but it also made me realize how dumb it was to worry about my friends knowing he was my Dad, even when he looked like a geek. I'm glad I could have a good, fun relationship with my Dad.

Conclusion

FatherWork is important in creating bonds between fathers and their children. Much like two people rowing a canoe, fathers and their children must learn how to work together. At times, the father will have to paddle stronger or lighter to compensate for their child's paddling capacity, adjusting to their child's social, emotions, and physical abilities. Just as those traveling the water in a canoe must communicate with each other to accomplish their goal, fathers and children must talk with one another in order for their relationship to take them across the waters of life.

There are times along the waters of life when you will encounter rough waters, but as you work together you will pass them by. As you talk with your children and establish good relationships with them, together you will enjoy your voyage and the many places which it takes you.

More metaphors about fathering

Learning and Application Activities

Please complete one of the following:

1. Think of an experience in which you or your father (or some other father you know well) demonstrated relationship work in fathering (commune, comfort). Write about this experience and submit your story to us.

2. Discuss the concept of relationship work in fathering with a spouse, friend, or co-worker, including the challenges of the human condition that make relational work important (isolation), the attendant needs of the next generation (intimacy and empathy), fathers' capabilities and responsibilities (commune and comfort) and the intended results of ethical work (loving fathers and caring children). Send us a brief (about one page) "report" about what you learned from this experience via email.

3. The terms, commune and comfort, associated with relational work, are quite broad, and in professional and educational settings it is usually important to be specific. Drawing from your personal and professional background, make a list of six specific ways that fathers can demonstrate their capability and responsibility to commune with and comfort their children and the next generation. Send your list to us via email.

Mentoring Work

Overview

Fathering is not just a social role; it is the work fathers do every day. This work is different from a job or career in that it stems from a moral obligation to meet children's needs and actively build a caring and supportive father-child relationship. To perform these critical duties, fathers can focus on seven specific categories of work: ethical work, stewardship work, development work, recreation work, spiritual work, relationship work, and mentoring work. (Dollahite, Hawkins, & Brotherson, 1997). This part of our home page is related to mentoring work.

Mentoring work consists of the father's ability and responsibility to consult (to impart ideas and stories when asked) and to contribute (sustain and support generative work of one's children). The desired result of mentoring work is generative fathers and generative children.

Stories

As children become adults, their fathers can have an important impact on their adjustment and management of adult obligations and complexity. Mentoring work is especially valuable as fathers care for their adult children. The first story is about how a father contributed (gave assistance) to his adult son.

"They give it back. As much as you give your parents, they find ways to give it back. Seven years ago I was in a partnership in construction and it went sour. The company got into a bad situation and, without going into a lot of detail, the bottom line was that I left. All I had known was construction for five or six years, since I'd been home from my mission [for his church]. I didn't know anything else, and construction was gone. There were no homes being built, no job opportunities, and I'd soured on it from what had happened. Basically, I ended up losing a home and becoming unemployed with no money. I'd learned from my family how to survive tough times: You face situations, nothing is ever critical, there's always a tomorrow, you're not going to die, etc.

"Yes, it might be important or a sticky situation, but you'll face it and tomorrow you'll go on. However, for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like there was a tomorrow. I had no money. I had bill collectors coming to the door. It really got to me when I realized that I didn't have enough money to buy a loaf of bread to feed my wife and my one child. When you are put into situations like that, you lose all self-confidence and all feelings of self-worth. I was devastated. My father could sense that something was wrong. My parents didn't know what the situation was or how bad it was, but they just showed up with some groceries. It was as if they were saying, "We don't know what you need, but we have some extra and here it is." It's probably one of the few times that I've cried in front of my father."

The following story tells of a father imparting insights and wisdom to his adult daughter, and how much this conveyance meant to her.

"The day was filled with excitement as I put on my cap and gown in preparation for my graduation from Ricks College with my associate's degree. I was surrounded by those whom I loved and was able to share a special moment in my life with them. In all the excitement my parents gave me a card that I did not open for some time. I sat down on the edge of the stage and opened the card while my parents were in their own world off to the side. From the moment I read the words 'Dear Janet,' my eyes began swelling with tears. I was filled with total emotion as I read: 'Dear Janet, I know we don't talk much. Communication between you and your mother seems to be better than between you and me. However, I want you to know how extremely proud of you that I really am.

"The example you set for your brothers and sisters is very important to me, but more than that, the standards you have set for yourself, places you in a class by yourself. I know you will succeed in anything you do; you've proven that many times. You have chosen well: your schools, your course of study, your work, and of course your mate. Be proud of who you are, be strong in what you do, be faithful to your convictions. You are my daughter, I love you very much - Dad.' To many people this would be a normal letter that contains words heard by their fathers many times. But to me, the words are like gold, very rare and precious. My father has never expressed his feelings to me in such a manner. Tears just streamed down my face when I read the words. I wanted to go up and hug my dad to let him know how much they meant but I was restrained. To this day I do not know why, but this experience has been held dear to me and I have cherished this card with all my heart."

The following story is about a father who respects his son's opinions. By listening and not passing judgment, he allows his son to make mistakes, and to learn and grown on his own.

"One of the best parts of our relationship is that for as long as I can remember, my dad has always treated me like an equal to him. He has always valued my opinions and my input on everything imaginable. As I get older and more educated, my opinions are beginning to become more defined. This has recently led to some heated debates between me and my dad. Luckily, we have a solid relationship that isn't affected negatively because of some conflicts we have.

"The time that I recall the most as an example of our relationship was when I came home for Thanksgiving from my first semester of college. I thought I knew it all, and I began to argue with my dad about something to do with politics. I was being so rude and arrogant in my argument. My dad could only sit and listen to my overnight political thesis on how I was the only one who really knew what was going on in the world. My dad didn't laugh in my face, but rather, listened to me and took it in, then let it slide. Some time after that, my dad and I both laughed about it. This showed me that for the good or bad, my father was going to be there to listen and treat me with respect."

Fathers also convey values, concerns, and meaning in life through telling their children binding stories about life, such as the fathers in these two stories.

"On a Sunday afternoon, shortly after the beginning of the year, my Dad called me and said, 'Son, do you have time for me to share something with you?' I said, 'Sure.' Dad explained that he had never been big on New Year's resolutions but that he had adopted his own tradition of sitting down alone after Christmas and making a list of blessings God had given him throughout the previous year. He said that this year he had taken some extra time and read through lists from years passed and had felt the desire to write a 'psalm' about his own life. My Dad then read me his psalm . . . it spoke of deathly illnesses from which he recovered and a safe return from service in Vietnam . . . but mostly it expressed his gratitude to God for his wife and children and for the rich joy they had brought him.

"His gratitude and deep love for God and his family seemed to take hold of me and shake me to a realization of my blessings. I'm grateful to God for giving me my Dad and I'm grateful to my Dad for helping to give me God."

Second Story.

"I was older and married. It's been really interesting because, like I said, my Dad's been really quiet and my Mom is very demonstrative. I remember coming home after I came back from the war in Vietnam, and he said something to me. I can't even remember exactly what he said, but it was really interesting. For the first time I think that I heard him verbalize that he loved me, and it just kind of stopped me in my tracks.

"Then he hugged me. That had never happened all my growing up years that I could remember. I was thirty-four. We had gone home for Christmas, I think, and it might have been the first time that he had met my wife. I remember what he said. He said, "You treat her good, because that is the woman you need." He told me, because we were thinking about moving back to Kansas City, "There is nothing for you here. Absolutely nothing." It was interesting because it was like he was having a father-and-son talk with me. I was thinking that I was thirty-four and married, and this was almost the birds-and-the-bees type of thing. That was really touching, as he opened up and fumbled through it. And then he felt more comfortable. I sat there and let him do it."

Although much of mentoring work occurs with adult children, fathers can begin this process of teaching children to deal with life obligations before their children reach adulthood. The first story tells how a young boy learned from his father how to deal with increasing insecurity and burdens in his life. The second story is about a father who prepares his daughter to handle complex problems in life such as racism.

"We would put up hay in that field. Dad and a five year old. But the field was off-limits to me when dad was not around. Off-limits, not because of any mandate from dad, but because it was the home of a very large gander--a very mean gander. The field was his territory and he protected it jealously from all comers except dad, from whom he would flee. On the occasions when I would try to cross the field, thinking that he was not there, he would surely arrive and chase me as fast as he could go, until I crossed the fence. He was mean. He would peck at me. He would screech at me. One day dad saw me crossing the field, when the gander attacked me as I fled across the field. Upon returning to Dad, he was upset.

"He told me that I should act like a man--that I should not let any goose chase me. He instructed me to give the gander no quarter. He instructed me to take a big stick with me the next time that I crossed the field. Armed with the stick, I began to cross the field. Not long thereafter, I heard the gander in pursuit. I turned, and as he arrived I swung the stick, striking him in the head. He seemed startled. Confused. He was not knocked out, but was clearly disoriented. From his perspective, there was clearly something new--something that he had not counted on. The next time I crossed the field, he screeched, but did not pursue. I was now in charge, not him. Following one little instruction from dad had changed my life and my perspective. I could control things that happened to me."

Second Story.

"The most painful experience I've had with Trina is when she was about three or four. We were living in a neighborhood where kids would tell her that they could not play with her because she did not have a white face. They would spit on her even though I was standing there, because she was black; . . . That hurt. It had nothing directly to do with her, but it hurt. It's painful for me because I thought I had marched, been spit on, kicked, beat up, jailed, called all kinds of names in the 1960s, and through the civil rights movement so that this should not be happening. . . . If it was said to me that would be fine, but not to my kids, not to my wife. I learned that I had to prepare my kids to deal with all kinds of people no matter where they are. Also, to understand that it's not their problem and they shouldn't take the other person's problem, who is bigoted or narrow-minded, away from them and put it on themselves."

The next few stories illustrate how fathers balance and combine the different kinds of generative work in their own lives--showing their children how to do the same. This first story is about a father that combined yard work in a melon patch with caring for his children. Notice how many types of generative work are integrated by the father in this story (stewardship, relationship, recreation, and development work).

"When my father came home from work at approximately six every evening, we thought he would want to quit for the evening, but he would always round us up to go pick cantaloupe. When we picked melons with Dad, he would carry the bags for the melons while we would hunt for the ripe melons. I would get so excited when I found a ripe melon on the vine that I would jump up and down, pick it, and throw it to Dad. Dad would always thank us and let us know that what we did was appreciated. Probably the best thing that Dad did while we were in the melon patch was to talk with us. He would ask us how our day had been and what we had accomplished. I always felt when we were in the melon patch I could tell Dad anything. I had more heart-to-heart talks with my father while in the melon patch then at any other time I can remember."

The next father integrates spiritual, ethical, and development work through helping his child handle the insecurity and burdens that come with moving.

"I was having a very difficult time accepting the fact that I had to leave all my friends and school activities in Huntington Beach and move to Washington. I still had two years left in high school, and I was feeling very cheated that I had to leave behind all that I loved and start over again. One night I was particularly upset--more than usual. I was crying almost uncontrollably and went to my mom and sister for consolation. I pleaded with them and tried to tell them that I just couldn't move. I did not know how I could handle it. I felt as though I was in the depths of despair. They could offer no sympathy for me because they saw my display as childish and selfish. I wasn't the only one moving, but I seemed to be only concerned with my own problems.

"I felt even more desperate and just sort-of collapsed on the couch in my sobbing. I didn't remember falling asleep but I remembered being awakened much later by my father. He was gentle and soothing. I didn't say anything and he simply had compassion on me. He said that if there were any other way they could make it easier on me they would. Then he asked if we could say a prayer together. He said a sweet prayer that I might be okay through the move. Then I went back to sleep. From that time on my attitude began to change 180 degrees."

The final story is about an adult son who learned how to deal with some of the complexities of life through the example of his father. His father exemplified the balance that is necessary for a father to care for the next generation.

"It takes continual effort, and there are these two poles that are tugging at you. You've got family, and you've got your profession and your education, and you can't abandon either one. It's very easy to fall into the profession. My Dad had seven children and a job that didn't pay all that much, and so he was repairing violins and restringing bows, working in the Navy Reserve, etc. I remember him having three or four different jobs at one point, in which he would do something. But he needed that. It wasn't easy for him keeping the family fed. So, he had to spend a lot of time. He recognized this and he sent us to college, and paid our tuition for those of us who didn't have scholarships.

"He gave us a stipend every month to live so we wouldn't have to work, so that we could study, so that we could get out and get good jobs. It boggled my mind when I graduated with my master's degree and found out that my starting salary was about equivalent to what my Dad was earning right then, and it's doubled since then. He had to struggle hard, and he wasn't able to take the time."

More metaphors about fathering

Learning and Application Activities

Please complete one of the following:

1. Think of an experience in which you or your father (or some other father you know well) demonstrated mentoring work in fathering (consult, contribute). Write about this experience and submit your story to us.

2. Discuss the concept of mentoring work in fathering with a spouse, friend, or co-worker, including the challenges of the human condition that make mentoring work important (obligation), the attendant needs of the next generation (wisdom and support), fathers' capabilities and responsibilities (consult and contribute) and the intended results of mentoring work (generative children and fathers). Send us a brief (about one page) "report" about what you learned from this experience via email.

3. The terms, consult and contribute, associated with mentoring work, are quite broad, and in professional and educational settings it is usually important to be specific. Drawing from your personal and professional background, make a list of six specific ways that fathers can demonstrate their capability and responsibility to convey and contribute to their children and the next generation. Send your list to us via email.